


Don't Bug Me

by PuddleJ



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuddleJ/pseuds/PuddleJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Sheppard on a routine mission. Only, it's never that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Bug Me

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for Tepring in SGA Secret Santa 2015 exchange.
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Dragonflower1, who also inspired the ending.

_I shoulda stayed in bed this morning_.

That was John Sheppard’s first conscious thought as he lay face down in the pitch dark, struggling for breath. Dust caught in his throat, not to mention what felt like a ton of rocks piled on his back and legs.

His next thought was for his team mates – had the rock fall hit them? Were they also stuck, injured…or worse?

“McKay? Teyla? Ronon?” he called weakly, his words interspersed with coughing. Dammit, those rocks were making it hard to catch a breath. He wriggled experimentally, discovering that most of the debris covered his lower back and left leg. The pain was starting to assert itself now; a dull ache in his stomach and torso, a pounding headache – most likely from the impact of whichever rock had sent him into oblivion.

Up ahead, there was a groan, followed by “I’m dead. I’m dead and this is hell.” Pause. “Huh, somehow I thought it’d be warmer.”

John couldn’t help the grin that covered his face – Rodney was conscious at least, and a snarky McKay was a mostly unharmed McKay. He sobered immediately though, as there was no sign of Teyla or Ronon.

“Rodney, you okay up there? Can you find Teyla or Ronon?” He called.

“Sheppard, is that you? Where are you?”

“No, it’s just the voices in your head, McKay. Of course it’s me. I’m stuck under a pile of rocks right now. Can you see Teyla and Ronon?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s pitch black down here. Unless I’m blind.” McKay stopped. “My god, I’m blind aren’t I? There’s occipital nerve damage and I’ll never see again. I _need_ to see.”

Biting his tongue for a moment, John interrupted the rambling. “Rodney, do you have a flashlight? I need you to find Teyla and Ronon.”

“What? Flashlight. Right, yes. Hang on.”

The sound of scrabbling and a skitter of pebbles filtered down to John as McKay seemed to be searching for the device.

A beam of light sliced across John’s vision, causing him to slam his eyes shut.

“Rodney!” he growled.

“Right, yes, searching.”

The light swung around, revealing rough-hewn walls, and more piles of rocks. The tunnel curved away to the right, but he and Rodney seemed to be the only occupants in this section. John knew that he’d been the last into the tunnel, Teyla and Ronon taking the lead with Rodney in the middle.

“They’re not here, maybe they’re further on. I’ll go look ahead,” Rodney said.

John was about to call out to Rodney not to leave him here in the dark alone, but he stopped himself. Now was not the time to let long-buried childhood fears take over.

“You do that, I’ll just wait here.”

More pebbles skittered as Rodney scrambled around the corner, the dark enveloping John once again.

Was it just him, or was the air in here getting kinda thin? Either that or it was those rocks crushing him. _Come on John, no time to be lying down on the job_ , he told himself. He gathered all his strength and willed himself to get to his hands and knees, to throw off the rubble pinning him down. He struggled for purchase, but the weight was just too much and he slumped down with a groan.

“I found Teyla and Ronon!” Rodney’s shout echoed in the space.

For a moment, John thought oxygen-deprivation was causing him to hallucinate his team-mates’ voice, but the welcome sight of Ronon, dusty but otherwise apparently without a scratch, crouching through the tunnel told him it was real.

“You okay, Ronon?”

“I’m fine. Teyla’s hurt, though.”

“It is just a sprain, nothing to worry about.” Teyla appeared through the gap, cradling her left arm against her chest. Rodney followed closely behind.

“You stuck, Sheppard?” Ronon grinned.

“Actually no, I’m quite enjoying this. Could you give me a hand here?”

Ronon made to shift the first rocks, before a shout from Teyla stopped him.

“Ronon, wait! We should not move the rocks until we know the extent of John’s injuries.”

Ronon grunted in understanding and backed off. Teyla crouched near his head.

“John, can you tell me if you are in pain?”

“Pretty sure I’ve got concussion, can’t feel my left leg and it’s kinda hard to breathe. Other than that, I’m good.” He flashed a trademark grin, but Teyla’s raised eyebrow told him she wasn’t buying the casualness.

“Rodney, I need you to check for blood.”

“Oh, no, I’m good here, thanks. I’ll just hold the flashlight.” John couldn’t see Rodney’s face behind the beam, but he could imagine it going pale at the mention of blood.

“I’ll do it.” Ronon darted forward, and John could feel the big guy moving around him.

“Can’t find anything,” he reported a few minutes later.

“So let’s quit delaying and get those rocks off Sheppard now.” Rodney was back to himself now the threat of blood was past.

Teyla looked over her shoulder at the physicist and John could almost hear her eye roll.

“Dr McKay, the pressure from the rocks could be the only thing keeping John from bleeding out, depending on his injuries. But I believe it will be safe to begin if we remove the rocks slowly.”

“By ‘we’, you mean Ronon and I, don’t you?” Rodney grumbled, then wedged the flashlight in a fissure and crouched beside Ronon.

Teyla nodded to them and they began to lift the rocks one by one.

Little by little, John could feel the pressure easing and could finally take a decent breath. The relief he felt was brief as he inhaled more dust and ended in a coughing fit. He lay face-down again, trying to breathe normally. When he raised his head, Teyla was still there, with that gentle smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better. But I can breathe again.”

“That is good to know. Can you feel your legs?”

Now that the rocks were gone, John realised he could feel both legs, the left now screaming at him.

“Little cramp in the left one,” he winced.

She nodded in acknowledgement. “You do not appear to have any serious injuries, thankfully. If you feel able, I think we should find a way back to the Stargate.”

John took a deep breath, then pushed to his hands and knees, and rolled to sit. A wave of dizziness hit him, causing him to fall back against the cave wall, panting.

“Colonel, are you all right?” Teyla darted forward, stopping him from falling to the floor again.

“Yeah, just got up too quick.”

Teyla shot him a dubious look, but said nothing.

The dizziness passed, though he still felt light-headed and his leg still ached. Still, at least it meant he was alive. It could have been worse.

A muffled sound came from the other side of the rock-fall. Sounded like the locals were close to them now.

“Murderous mob getting closer. Shouldn’t we be going now?” Rodney said, waving the Life Signs Detector around.

John staggered to his feet, Teyla supporting his elbow. He would make it under his own steam. “Let’s move out.”

Nobody needed telling twice. Rodney reluctantly took point, Teyla and John in the middle, Ronon covering their six. Progress was slow – only Teyla could walk upright, the men all having to bow their heads. Ronon was doing a pretty good impression of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, not that John would tell him – this wasn’t the time for a lengthy discussion of classic French literature.

As they half-jogged, half-crouched along, or hobbled in John’s case, he thought how they had got to be in this situation. It was supposed to be one of those easy missions – make nice with the locals and reach a trade agreement for grain that could be used for flour, amongst other things. Only it was never that simple, was it?

The village leader had offered his eldest daughter as a sweetener to the deal. Not that she hadn’t been a nice kid, but that was the problem – she was barely eighteen by his reckoning. Unfortunately, polite refusal seemed to be the wrong answer and negotiations had quickly turned sour. The chief had accused them of wasting his time and told them to leave immediately. The pack of villagers chasing them with swords, arrows and such-like suggested they weren’t going to be allowed to go in peace. The team had been herded like cattle into a deep valley; the tunnel they now fled through being the only escape route, but that hadn’t put the pack off. John’s hastily thrown grenade had caused the cave-in, but even that seemed to have only slowed them down – they were clearly out for blood.

Despite his slightly fuzzy state, John managed to observe their surroundings. The tunnel appeared man-made, and twisted and turned regularly. By his estimation they had travelled about a kilometre, but somehow it didn’t feel as if they were that deep into the hillside. He couldn’t help the growing sense that this was a trap, and they had fallen right into it. It was almost as if it was some kind of sick joke on the part of the universe.

“Oh no. No, no, no, this is not good.” John’s heart sank. That was high on the John Sheppard list of ‘Things you Least Want to Hear from a Teammate’.

“What’s not good, McKay?”

“That’s not!” Rodney pointed to the sheer rock face in front of them. “Also, the locals seem to have broken through the cave in, but I can’t tell for sure because the life signs detector is on the fritz.”

It seemed their only option was to stand and fight and he could just imagine Elizabeth’s disapproving frown when he had to explain why, provided they made it out.

Wait a minute, though. Was that a draught from somewhere? That had to mean airflow and that meant a possible escape route. Shining the light from his P-90 around the narrow space, John’s eyes searched for another tunnel, a fissure, anything that might suggest an exit was nearby.

Swinging the light and stepping forward, the sense of rock hanging overhead eased and the beam disappeared up, revealing a shaft. The draught seemed to be coming from there.

Rodney peered up into the space. “Um, hello, sheer rock and no ropes. How are we going to get up there? Unless you’ve turned into Spiderman overnight.”

John swallowed. “Can we not talk about me turning into a bug?”

“Actually, a spider is an arachnid, not an insect. I thought even you knew that.”

John glared at Rodney. “What part of not talking about it didn’t you get?”

“Colonel, Ronon and I have found what appears to be a way out of here.” Teyla’s voice interrupted them. One foot supported by Ronon’s cupped hands, Teyla hung by her right hand from a rusty-looking staple driven into the rock face. John swept the light above her head, revealing a further run of staples. None looked particularly sturdy, but they were infinitely more appealing than the other option.

“Huh, would you look at that?” Rodney muttered, his flashlight boosting the P-90’s light.

“Yeah, a miniature via ferrata.” John swayed a little as he looked up. Damn, not a good angle, the dizziness was rushing in again. And when had his ribs started feeling tender?

Teyla lowered herself, dropping neatly to the ground, ever-graceful.

“What is wrong?” She asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” John assured her.

Ronon volunteered to scout ahead, pointing out that he was the heaviest of the group and therefore most likely to find any weak spots. John pointed out that they simply didn’t have time to wait around. Ronon still went first – ready to haul up Rodney with a grumble about his weight. Teyla went next, John offering her a bunk-up.

He knew it was going to take an effort to reach that lowest staple, even without a weak leg and bruised ribs. He took a deep breath, hopped a few times, then backed up as far as he could. A running jump, his boots scrabbled on rock and his fingers just brushed the metal before he slid down. Another jump and he just managed to grip with one hand. His ribs felt stretched as he managed to swing the other hand up. He scrabbled again, willing himself high enough to grab the next staple. When his toes gained purchase, he half-hauled, half-walked until his foot reached the lowest hold.

To his great relief, the staples only extended approximately twenty feet, before he was aware of hands hauling him onto a rock ledge. He sprawled, trying to push away the pain flaring with every breath.

There was a cry from below - the locals had found them.

Ronon rushed forward, firing warning shots down the hole.

“Way to go, Conan. Now they definitely know we’re here,” Rodney bitched, tapping the LSD.

“D’you want another arrow in your ass, McKay?” Ronon growled, glowering over his shoulder at Rodney.

John closed his eyes, lying back against the floor. It would be so easy just to rest here for a while. _Just five minutes would be great_. Maybe when he woke the bickering would have stopped.

“John, I am sorry, but you must not fall asleep.” Teyla gently squeezed his shoulder.

“When did you turn into Florence Nightingale?” He muttered.

Teyla frowned slightly. “I do not know this Florence Nightingale, who is she?”

“She was a nurse back on Earth about a hundred and fifty years ago. Nursed wounded soldiers, pioneered modern nursing, that sorta thing,” he replied.

Teyla smiled gently. “I am hardly pioneering, but nursing wounded soldiers seems appropriate. I would like to check your ribs.”

Awkwardly, he shifted to allow Teyla to examine him.

“You been taking lessons from the Doc?”

“I thought it a sensible idea. Dr Beckett agreed to teach me some field medicine.”

“Thanks, I think.”

Propped against the wall, John tried to cover the wince as Teyla probed a tender spot. His muscles were already beginning to stiffen and he was going to have an interesting collection of bruises in the morning.

“What’s the verdict, Nurse Emmagan?” He joked.

“Your ribs appear to be bruised, but I am more concerned that your abdomen is becoming rigid.”

“Hey, the workout’s finally paying off.”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his humour. “I am concerned that you have internal bleeding, in which case you may need surgery.”

Great, that was all he needed. “McKay, you got us a way outta here yet?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, the technology is still whacked.”

Ronon tensed, and fired another round of shots down the hole. He jumped to his feet, grabbing the back of Rodney’s TAC vest and practically dragging him along the passage.

“Move, now,” he ordered.

John rolled to his feet, nearly landing on his ass as the left buckled, but he manged to remain upright with Teyla’s support. He fished in his vest pocket, pulling out a couple of flash-bangs just as the first native appeared at the top of the ladder.

“Stop!”

John pulled the pins and hurled the grenades behind him.

“Go!” he yelled, scrambling away from the hole.

There was a muffled howl, tailing off as the native presumably landed in the cave below. With luck, he might’ve have taken out a few of his buddies as well.

This tunnel was even smaller than the previous one, even Teyla had to bow her head and Ronon was virtually on all fours. As he fought for breath bent nearly double, John prayed that Rodney’s flight instinct was stronger than his claustrophobia at this moment. He really couldn’t deal with a McKay freak-out right now.

“Air’s getting fresher,” Ronon suddenly remarked.

Damned if he could tell right now, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Ronon could sniff out water in a desert. Time and again the big guy’s instincts had gotten them out of trouble.

Fresh air or not, it was getting increasingly hard to catch his breath, and his leg was really stiffening up. Still, getting the rest of the team to the ‘gate and home was the first priority. He’d worry about himself later.

What he did notice was that the tunnel appeared to be sloping upwards, perhaps leading to an escape route. He had the feeling the Stargate should be somewhere on the opposite side of the hill to the valley they had been chased into.

“I’ll go check it out,” Ronon glanced back over his shoulder. “You gonna make it?”

“’Course I will. Still gotta knock you on your ass,” he replied.

“Dream on, Sheppard.” Ronon grinned, then scrambled off up the passage.

The three remaining team members trudged on. John found he could no longer bend his left leg and was doing a step-drag thing that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a George A. Romero movie.

Moments later, Ronon ducked back into the tunnel.

“There’s a cavern up ahead, looks like some kind of shrine. It’s got a weird glow and skulls everywhere, but there’s daylight the other side.”

“Phosphorescence,” Rodney muttered, still glowering at the uncooperative LSD.

“Phosphor-what?” Ronon stared at McKay.

“Phosphorescence,” Rodney began.

“I don’t think we have time for a science lesson, right now, McKay.” John cut him off before he could launch into one of his lengthy explanations.

As Ronon said, the tunnel widened into a tall cavern, maybe thirty feet across with the vague promise of an exit somewhere ahead. The walls did indeed glow, and here and there quartz-like crystals caught the light. It would have been almost pretty, but for the grinning skulls set into the walls.

“Jeez, could it get any creepier?” Rodney exclaimed, looking fairly ghoulish himself in the greenish light.

“I believe this is a reliquary. Many people believe the souls of their ancestors stay near to their mortal remains. It is a way to keep in touch,” Teyla remarked.

“Yes, thank you Doctor Jones, as fascinating as alien troglodyte death rituals are, I for one, would like to see daylight again.”

Teyla shot a filthy look in Rodney’s direction, then a questioning one at John.

“I’ll explain later,” he muttered to her. Surely Rodney knew Indy was an archaeologist, not an anthropologist? He made a mental note to choose ‘Temple of Doom’ for the next team movie night.

Just then, a blood-curdling howl echoed around the cave. A single arrow whipped through the air, burying itself millimetres from McKay’s foot. Rodney yelped, hitting the deck, covering his head with his hands.

Ronon whipped round, blaster ready, and fired. A native slid down the rocks from some high, unseen ledge.

“Run!” Sheppard yelled, raising his own P-90, as his left leg finally gave out. He could still shoot, even if he couldn’t run. A hail of arrows loosed, and he was convinced this was finally it. Still, it wasn’t an arrow in the ass – he’d still be able to haunt McKay about that one.

John felt himself dragged to his feet, his arm nearly wrenched out of the socket.

“C’mon, Sheppard, not leaving you behind,” Ronon growled, firing upwards again.

“You get the other two to the ‘gate, I’ll cover you.”

“Not leaving you,” Ronon repeated.

Willing himself to respond, John staggered to his feet, firing a final blast of bullets in the general vicinity of their attackers, then turned back to Ronon.

“Let’s go home, buddy,” he grinned.

They surged forward, adrenaline pushing him on, plus an unfailing desire to emerge through the ‘gate on two feet. Well, one and a half would do.

They reached a doorway cut from the rock face and John could see the Stargate from here. Just a few hundred yards and they’d be back.

“Sheppard, look out!”

Ronon’s gun was quick, but the other guy was quicker. As the other man lurched forward with a smoking hole in his chest, John felt searing pain in his right calf. He glanced down, unsurprised to see the arrow embedded in the flesh.

“Dial the gate!” he yelled.

Ronon hauled him along again, but he could feel reality slipping away. Damn, some kind of poison on the arrow, it had to be.

John’s feet hit stone and before he knew it the brief cold of the wormhole was gone and he staggered into the gate room. He could hear alarms, personnel shouting, but he didn’t care. His team was home and so was he. With that he closed his eyes and let oblivion claim him.

SGA

 _Soft_. _Warm_. _Thirsty_. _Itchy,_ John thought _._

Goddamn that itch, right between his shoulder blades. He wriggled, too sleepy to raise an arm to scratch. Where was he again?

“Sheppard?”

“R’ney?” he croaked.

“Someone get Beckett over here, he’s waking up.”

Right, Infirmary, then. Still itchy though, his hand now. He tried to raise his other hand, but couldn’t. Heart rate picking up now and why couldn’t he open his eyes? With an effort, he managed to crack one eye and instantly regretted it as the light seared in. He let out a groan.

“Easy, John, be still.” Teyla’s voice. He was aware of the light dimming and risked another glimpse, this time spotting Teyla and Rodney seated on either side of the bed, Rodney clutching his laptop and Teyla sporting her gently concerned expression. Ronon leant against a wall nearby, arms crossed.

“Colonel Sheppard, good to see you awake again. How are you feeling?” Carson asked, approaching John’s bed from the left.

“Itchy, thirsty.” He closed his eyes again. It really was too much effort to keep them open right now.

He felt a straw touch his lips and he drank greedily. He grumbled a protest as the straw was quickly removed.

“Steady now, you can have more in a minute. You’ve not eaten or drunk anything for nearly two weeks. We don’t want your stomach rejecting the water, do we?” Beckett replied.

“Two weeks?” John echoed, feeling woozy. Since when was he reduced to two word sentences? Oh yeah, that’d be the morphine. It always did make him feel like he had a head full of cotton-wool.

“Aye. You gave us a wee bit of a scare.”

“A wee scare? Are you joking, Carson? He should be dead. You said it yourself,” Rodney cut in.

“Doc?” John willed himself to look Beckett in the eye.

“I’ll thank you not to interrupt, Rodney.” Beckett shot a mock glare at Rodney, then reached into his pocket, pulling out the penlight of doom.

John groaned.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.”

John grumpily submitted to the exam, trying not to blink too much.

“Still some photosensitivity, but that’s to be expected. Otherwise you seem to be returning to your usual self.” Beckett appeared pleased with his findings, but John was getting sick and tired of this back and forth.

“What the hell’s going on?”

“You bugged out on us again,” Rodney stated.

“Rodney!” Teyla scolded.

“What? That’s exactly what happened. Sheppard started turning into a bug again.”

“I’m afraid Rodney is correct, Colonel,” Beckett said, putting his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “Your body has experienced changes similar to those that occurred last year after your encounter with Ellia.”

“Poison arrow,” Ronon grunted from his corner.

Beckett glanced at Ronon, then back at John. “Aye, the arrow in your leg was tipped with a poison derived from the Iratus bug’s natural venom. As far as I could tell, it would normally only paralyse the victim. Unfortunately, in your case, it reacted with the dormant Iratus DNA in your system and triggered the metamorphosis.”

“There’s still Iratus in me? Man, I _really_ hate those bugs,” Sheppard growled.

“John…” Teyla, hesitated, not meeting his eyes. “This time, it may actually have saved your life.”

He turned back to Beckett, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Colonel, with the injuries you had, you were lucky to make it back to Atlantis. You had extensive internal bleeding and you went into cardiac arrest before we could get you to the infirmary. Your left leg was showing full-blown compartment syndrome. Once we’d resuscitated you and got you into surgery, the poison was already working through your system, but triggering the DNA to repair the damage.”

“So you let me turn into a bug?” John lay back, memories of his last transformation flooding in.

“I’m sorry John, you wouldn’t have survived otherwise.”

“Did I hurt anyone?” he breathed.

“No, you’ve been in a medically-induced coma and restrained since we stabilised your condition. We knew the danger this time.”

For the first time, John noticed the leather restraints around his wrists and ankles.

“Could you…” he gestured weakly.

“Of course.”

Ronon, Teyla and Rodney moved in to undo the straps securing him.

“Elizabeth wanted me to contact her when you came round,” Carson went on.

John nodded. Of course Elizabeth would need to know, but John wasn’t looking forward to that de-brief one little bit.

“All right, I’ll let her know. Get some rest, Colonel.” Beckett smiled and touched his shoulder, then turned away, one hand to his radio.

“You’re quiet, McKay,” John began.

“Yes, well, busy you know, working.” He glanced up at John. “Glad you’re back, even if you could join the Blue Man Group without Pan-stik. Although you’d have to shave your head.”

John stared down at his hands. There was a definite azure tinge to the skin. “Somebody get me a mirror, now!” He demanded.

“It is really not that noticeable, John,” Teyla broke in, attempting to diffuse the rising tension.

John glared at Rodney, who was humming ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green’ under his breath.

Ronon stared at John and Rodney, evidently thinking they’d both gone completely mad. Teyla just looked confused.

Suddenly feeling incredibly tired, John slumped back on the pillows. It wasn’t everyday your friends purposely turned you into a proto-Wraith to save your life, and yeah, he’d have plenty of issues to come about that. But the most important thing was those friends would get him through it, just like they always did.

He smiled to himself – maybe he’d choose ‘Muppets in Space’ instead of ‘Temple of Doom’ for movie night. He drifted off to sleep trying to match Expedition members with their Muppet counterparts.

- _Fin_ -


End file.
